Yesterday as my son and I were sharing a conversation he asked me, "Hey mom, what did Grandpa Ruff's voice sound like? See, we were watching the Hallmark movie, November Christmas, and Sam Elliot was speaking. This threw me for a loop. I wasn't ready to answer that and I didn't know how. I simply said, "Gosh, Jake, I don't know." As Jake left the room, tears began to fall. I turned the television down to almost silence and listened. Just trying to capture my dad's voice. Just trying to hear him say, "Rob, time for supper." I tried with all my might to remember and I could not recall my dad's voice. I thought, "What kind of daughter am I that I cannot remember my dad's voice?" I didn't know what to do. I just sat there wanting so badly to hear it one more time so I could share with my son. A son who longs for the grandfather he never got to meet. Oh, but one day. One day they will meet. Then Jacob can hear for himself as he wraps his arms around him. My dad passed away when I was nineteen. This December 30th, I will be 44. It has been over twenty years and I thought I would never forget the sound of my dad's voice. I closed my eyes that night hoping to dream about him. My dreams of my dad are far and few, but when they do come, I hang on as tight as I can, waking only to want more. More time. If only in my dreams. But then something amazing happened.
I felt the Lord's whisper say, "You will hear his voice again one day." Oh, what a happy day that will be. It breaks my heart that I cannot recall his voice. A voice I heard daily. One that meant so much to me. Does that mean healing has happened? I have such wonderful memories. Will I ever forget his suffering and death? No. But I have let go of my anger. The pain doesn't fill my mind daily any longer. The Lord has brought a peace I have not known before. But it gets even better.
I hear another whisper say, "It is My voice that you hear now. It is My voice, your Father, that you must listen to now." Chills ran up my spine. To love my earthy father, oh, how he was so precious to me. I miss him dearly. I wish my children could see him. I wish he could hold his great-granddaughter. Now, that would be a sight to behold. But until I see him again, I am okay. In fact I am good. The Lord is my heavenly Father, my Savior, and it is His voice I long to hear daily.
